Home
by Frivolouswhim
Summary: Henry is rescued by his family - and he re-evaluates Regina's role in his life. Set after 3x05 (contains spoilers up until that ep. Warning: Character Death)


Disclaimer: I own nothing. I just played with them. 

Note: I had this idea while watching 3x05 and Henry drawing his home in the sand. :) Dedicated to all my friends invested in this relationship.

„_Mommy._"

The handprint, his own, was so tiny compared to his hands now. Henry was nowhere near an adult but in his mind he just thought of it when he was "little." He wasn't an adult, yet, but most adults have not had the family and the experiences he had. Especially not children of this world – a land without magic. Technically, it wasn't true, as Storybrooke was magical after all.

Sitting in his bed, in his room that did not change one bit since he had last spent a night here, he kept staring at his mother's most prized possession. And he was angry – very angry. And he wished, oh so hard at the moment, that Peter Pan had been right, that thinking and believing hard enough was magic indeed here too and not just in Neverland.

"Hey, kid," his mother's, _other mother's_, voice startled his thoughts. He could sense her in the doorway. She did not come in. "Are you ready to go home?"

"I'm home," he answered stubbornly.

He was slouching as he sat, something his mom used to scold him for. "_Straighten your back, Henry, or you'll be walking like an old man long before your time_," she used to say. And he used to hate it and think that it was just another thing she wanted to pick on. He had not cared to listen then and much less now, just out of spite. Every adult had something to say, he was left out, because he was just a kid, and everybody knew better all the damn time. They spoke as though they knew better. He wasn't taken seriously.

They saved him, so what. He was still angry and so bitterly disappointed and maybe… maybe he should have accepted Pan's offer. He should have stayed in Neverland.

"Look, Henry," Emma began in a gentle tone. "I know how you feel. She-"

"I don't care," he burst out louder than he had ever spoken to any adult in his life before. He was irritated and he did not care for excuses. He wanted to be left alone, he did not wish to see his family either. He just wanted them to leave him be.

He remembered drawing the mansion in the sand back in that godforsaken place, that in that moment he had forgotten about how angry he used to get with his mom. That she was the Evil Queen who did not care for his feelings and well being. But he was reminded now. Bitterly. He felt so stupid about having yearned for this place now.

"Let me talk to him." Henry heard whispers behind his back but he did not turn around.

"No," Emma responded in her own whisper. "Trust me, Mary Margaret, he won't listen. Not now. Let's go downstairs."

"Hey kid," she spoke up. "We'll be downstairs, whenever you're ready."

But Henry did not answer.

"Neal came over too… if you'd like to have a talk," Henry still did not respond.

Instead he listened to them walk away, listened to their footsteps as they descended on the stairs that he used to run up and down on, irritating his mother. Good. He did not feel like talking to any of them. He did not feel like giving in, refused to allow them to be right.

He was very much his mother's son, biology or not. Stubborn, persistent and, at the moment, bitterly disappointed. And anger in his teenage mind was much easier to hold on to than all the other things he did not wish to feel or understand. He did not understand how _Regina_could claim to love him and then going against his pleas. If she truly loved him liked she claimed, she would have listened.

He hated magic more than ever. It ruined everything. It ruined his mom. It ruined his happy ending.

So Henry sat, fuming, feeling helpless and angry and a ton of emotions he did not understand feeling. There was good and there was evil and why couldn't it be that simple? And to hell with all those stories he used to read. Sacrifice meant nothing. Absolutely _nothing_. Those stories were for children who did not understand the gravity – not like he did now. Stupid tales he wished weren't true. There was absolutely nothing heroic in sacrifice. Oh how high his _gramps_ used to be in his eyes, Prince Charming himself, ready to fight for his family. Not anymore though. It meant nothing – absolutely _nothing_.

Slowly Henry lost track of time and he had no idea how long he had been sitting there. It was the afternoon when Emma took him to the mansion, to home where he longed to go after such a nasty and mightmare of a trip to the real and true Neverland. Pan was dead and he did not feel a bit sorry. He was back with people who loved him but it felt empty. After all, what good it was to be back with people who claimed to love you if it wasn't everyone.

He remembered pleading, practically bagging with his mother, because she had the magic and he couldn't lose his family and Snow White couldn't lose her Prince Charming. That stupid dreamshade.

He wanted to be grown up, act like this loss did not affect him but truth was, Henry was just a boy. And his resolve, just like his belief, was crumbling because this was reality and not one of those tales he used to believe in with happy endings. He held it in like a tough little man for three long days. It was partly shock, partly the inability that it had truly happened but now it was catching up to him.

His grandfather was a hero who planned to die as one, and yet it wasn't his sacrifice that the whole story ended up being about. It was a close call, there were tears which were more terrifying for Henry than being alone with the lost boys, as Mary Margaret had clung to her husband who was to be left behind and even Emma was shaken and…. Henry, was desperately pleading with his mom to do something. And then she did.

It was magic indeed – dark magic. A blood sacrifice in its truest form and all Henry understood was that she traded her life to David's, she took the poison in his system that essentially was to trap him in Neverland. But their whole escape and survival was dependent on magic, joining powers with Rumplestiltskin and even with Emma. And from the moment realization hit Henry that the former Evil Queen granted his wish and she did something, he clung to her, trying to stop it, he screamed to buy time because he'd much rather be trapped in Neverland then or anywhere with her but not this, anything but this.

"No! Stop! This isn't what I asked," he shouted but then it was bright and dark, he was spinning and twisting and the next thing he knew they had come through the portal. The Storybrooke harbor was in sight, it was daylight – but could have been night, too.

And then his mom collapsed. He watched as the dreamshade spread through her body, she struggled to breathe and he clung to her, hugged her as she faded away. She couldn't talk but neither could he. She seemed peaceful, oddly enough, as she met his panicked gaze. And everything came to a stand still then. Henry couldn't feel pain, he couldn't feel loss. Just anger.

The sound coming from downstairs brought him out of his reverie. He looked at his own handprint again. That and a picture of him and Regina were the only things he took with him as he stood up and, without looking back, left his room.

There was an awkward and respectful silence as Henry got in the car with Emma, Mary Margaret and Neal to drive back to the apartment. His mother sat next to him, giving him that oh so frustrating understanding look.

"You okay, kid?" She asked but even Henry could tell she wasn't expecting a positive answer.

"You are right. This isn't home. "Henry said as he watched the mansion slowly disappear from sight. "She was."

Fin.


End file.
